The New Trickster
by sinslikescarlet
Summary: Sam, Dean, and Cas stumble upon an old friend and his companion. He tells them that there's something controlling all the evil forces in the world: but to do what? With the help of new and old faces, the world might just be safe from this New Trickster. Rated M for language, Destiel, 10/Rose, and Shwatson
1. The Begining

"Sammy!" Dean screamed, "What the _hell_ did you do to my baby!"

Even from the inside of Bobby's worn down ramshackle of a house, Sam could hear the angry profanities of his brother. He clicked his laptop shut and grudgingly dragged his feet towards the door. The elder hunter walked in, looking sorry for the boy. He made a beeline for the fridge, an attempt to placate Dean with some beer when he entered the building. Either that or attempt to shut out Dean's most recent hissy-fit with a drink for himself.

It didn't take long for Dean and his anger to barge into the family room.

"I didn't touch your car, Dean," Sam said immediately, his eyes blank. "If you want to know who scratched her up, ask Bobby."

"Don't you be pinning this on Bobby," Dean growled before the older man even opened his mouth, "He's not a sasquatch who could easily desecrate my beautiful baby!"

"All I've been doing is looking for a new case, and nothing else. Cas can attest to that," Sam replied, trying to hide his annoyance. It had been so nice and quiet these past few days…why couldn't they just relax for a week?

Bobby eagerly popped open the cap of a beer, downing the drink as quickly as he could. Dean's green eyes looked at him apprehensively, seeing the fear in his friend. Sam grabbed his laptop and began to make his way to the living room to escape, but his brother tightly gripped onto his arm, keeping him from his goal.

"You're not getting out of this, Sam. Would you or Bobby like to explain what happened to the Impala?"

"He doesn't know," Bobby said reluctantly, "And neither do I. When Cas went to go get some air, he saw it, and simply told us that the car had some scratches. Maybe some kids did it last night while you and Sam were out getting dinner and you just didn't notice it-"

"I think I would notice something like that, something that horrible, on my baby-"

"Stop calling the car that," Cas said in his deep voice, "It surely is not an infant."

It hadn't even come as a thought to the angry man that Cas was in the room. Dean released Sam, and grabbed the beer, or what was left of it, from Bobby's hands. Castiel rolled his eyes, letting out a dissatisfied sigh. Sam and Bobby exchanged a look. Castiel could always calm the older brother, though they had no clue how. Sam had his suspicions, but he didn't want to assume anything.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to let her sit there in pain. I'm gonna take her down to the shop; anyone want to come?" Dean breathed, the scent of alcohol barely noticeable in his breath.

"Why take her out when you can just fix her up here?" Sam asked, mildly frightened at the possible response from his older brother. Yet, Dean just ignored him. Castiel's lips curled into a bit of a smile when he realized what the other men's silence meant. They were stepping away from the situation, and leaving it to the angel.

Dean laughed, grinning wide. "Why do I waste my breath asking anymore? Come on."

-  
>Castiel looked more than just out of place in the mechanic's waiting room. The blatant "No Smoking" sign was completely ignored by an excessively obese man who spewed smoke out of his nostrils each time he heaved out a breath. A woman in a tight shirt and jean shorts, if you could even consider them to be shorts, would occasionally inhale deeply into her cigarette. Every minute, without fail, Cas would cough a little too loudly, and, without fail, Dean would step on his foot to make him cease in order to avoid getting shot. The hunter would then continue absent-mindedly looking through the newspaper, with Cas staring at the stained walls with the same bored look he always seemed to have.<p>

"Mr. Hothgraw?" a woman coughed out, emerging from a back door, "Your car is ready to go."

Dean gingerly put the newspaper in Castiel's lap, getting up and grabbing out his wallet. Cas looked down at the first page, and smiled. As Dean paid with yet another fake credit card, the angel held it in front of the others face as he walked back to him.

"What?" Dean asked, "What are you doing?"

Cas shoved the newspaper even more into Dean's features, in a slight hope he would notice it more when it was crammed up his eyes.

"Dammit Cas, use your words!" Dean commanded, pushing the angel's hands back.

"There's a free cruise to England tomorrow."

"And?"

"We should go."

The hunter sighed, grabbing a hold of Cas' trench coat sleeve and dragging him out the door, into the brightness of the day and away from the clouds of dark smoke emanating the tenants of the lobby. "And why should we go?"

"It's free."

"Just because something's there doesn't mean you have to do it. Come on, let's get back to Bobby's. That guy in the waiting room is eyeing me in a way I don't particularly like."

"You know, that actually sounds like a pretty good idea!" Sam said, snatching the newspaper from Castiel. "We've always hunted in the states; why can't we try something new? It's not like the area will be barren of ghosts or demons and people who need our help."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, his nose scrunching up, causing his freckles to be even more accentuated. "What's so great about going to a place where everyone drinks their beer warm?"

Bobby smiled. "There's nothing wrong with a little taste of a new culture."

Dean could have sworn that Cas was shaking his ass back and forth, like a happy dog. He let out a low groan. "There has to be some sort of catch. No one does anything for free anymore, especially not in this economy." His eyes narrowed as he went through a list of possibilites in his head.

Sam's chocolate eyes grew as he looked at the paper again. "I think I know the catch."

Dean's eyes tightened even more. "And what exactly would that be?" He could sense danger, especially when Sammy was trying to hide it from him. Castiel turned away, so he was facing a wall; he didn't want Dean to see his eyes.

The angel muttered quietly.

"Excuse me, I couldn't exactly make that out. Would you repeat that?"

Sam attempted to hold back a smile. He knew what it was, and it would definitely upset his older brother. He tapped Bobby's shoulder and led him to the kitchen as Dean continued to question the angel. Each time, he was given the same, quiet answer. And, each time, Dean would ask Cas to repeat himself.

It was a couple minutes before Bobby softly asked, "Sam, what exactly is the catch? I couldn't quite hear the idjit."

Within seconds he finished his sentence, there was utter silence. Sam glanced at Bobby with a puzzled look, and the older man said nothing. Simply shrugged his shoulders. And then, just for a second, he heard that beautiful noise that comes after a kiss; that quiet _puck_ that marks lips leaving an embrace. Sam's eyes grew wide, his mouth just slightly open. Bobby poked the gigantic boy standing beside him, snapping the hunter back to reality. He couldn't have heard it. Sam was probably just imagining things.

"Oh, um, uh, you see…" he sputtered, still recovering from his delusion, "The cruise is, uhm…"

A glass shattered.

"You idjit, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Bobby yelled, storming past Sam back to the common room.

"What am I doing? What am _I_ doing? I'm not going on that freaking cruise!" Dean screeched, his hands on his hips.

"And why is that a cause for breaking my vase?"

"It's to…" Dean's voice quieted, "To uh…prove a point! That's it! To prove a point!"

Sam looked sheepishly at Cas; his guess becoming more and more real. Those blue eyes…were they always like that? And his lips, were they always so pink? Sam shook his head. Just how much had he had to drink today?

"Cas and Sammy can go, but there is no way I'm going!" Dean fumed.

"Would you mind telling us why you won't go?" Bobby asked sharply. "Because I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Bobby—" Dean faltered, looking at Cas. "It's a gay pride thing. We have to be _gay _to go."

"Shouldn't be too difficult for you kids. Get your bags packed, the ship sets sail tomorrow," Bobby snorted, leaving Dean to rant on his own. "I don't want you in my house in the morning."

As the man went to the kitchen to fetch yet another beer, Cas caught Sam's glance. Sammy's eyes couldn't hide anything: his suspicions were written on his face. Yet, Cas simply nodded his head, and turned to watch Dean as he stomped off outside. Perhaps Sam was right…perhaps he wasn't as drunk as he thought he was.


	2. The Wind

The sun shined brightly down on the motley group as they waited to go off to their vacation. Dean slumped beside the luggage, an assortment of some old bags they borrowed from Bobby, filled with just about everything but the Impala. Sam was quickly checking his phone one more time, just in case some hunter somewhere needed their help. He had to admit it; he was nervous. Not about being on a cruise, not even about being on a cruise with several gay men celebrating the new legalization of same-sex marriage in the state. That didn't bother Sam. It was the fact that he would be with Dean and Cas the entire time. Probably even in the same room. That was what bothered him. Sam could hardly ever hide anything from his older brother, which only added to the sinking feeling in the boy's gut.

Cas' eyes lit up as a woman in a pink dress, reminiscent of army uniforms during World War Two, walked up to the boys. Sam quickly put his phone in his pocket, and Dean mumbled profanities to himself.

"Well hello there!" she chirped, "I'm Laurel. Are you all here for the celebratory cruise to London?" Her bright green eyes stared up at Sam, fixing on his confused face.

The girl had a very soft appearance, with just a little bit of makeup. Her pink lips glistened in the light, her nose long and rounded. She looked almost like had walked out of an old photo.

"Uhm, yes, we are. Is there anything we need to do before-" Sam said, digging through wallet.

"Wait a second," Laurel interrupted, "Are all three of you planning to come?" Her bright face drooped just so.

"Is there anything wrong with that?" Cas asked, tilting his head a tad to the left. The girl seemed surprised, almost freighted, by his deep and gravelly voice. She quickly pasted her smile back on, avoiding looking at Cas in the eyes.

"Due to high interest, we only have one more couple's suite left. We do have a few spots left in our bunker beds for…" she paused, biting her lip a little as she turned her head up towards Sam's towering figure, "…singles."

Dean's eyes were filled to the top with fear. He nervously looked around him, just to make sure no one had heard or seen the attendant say "couple." Cas, again, simply stared at the girl's face.

"That should be just fine," Sam said quickly, before Dean could object. This was perfect! With Cas and Dean in their own room, he would be safe, and possibly able to avoid any awkward happenings. The twisted feeling in his stomach disappeared.

"Great!" exclaimed Laurel, "Now, I must ask," she crouched down lower to Dean's level, "Who's the happy couple here?" That wide grin returned, with a vengeance.

Without thinking, Sam's giant hands shoved Cas' limp figure close to Dean's toned one. Dean nearly screamed, his heart thumping so loud he just _knew_ anyone in a ten mile radius could hear it. He bit his lip to avoid blowing their cover. If his brother and the dumb angel wanted to hang out with a bunch of gay guys, they could. He'd just enjoy the buffet.

"Just hitched," Sam grinned, "You know, with the new law passed and all. I'm just the best man making sure a certain someone doesn't drink too much," he said, elbowing Cas. He tried to wink at Laurel, to make it more convincing.

Dean squirmed just slightly, his hand just a little _too _close to the angel's. "Yeah, he really loves those purple nurple things."

"Oh, aren't you just too sweet!" Laurel gushed, "Me and my lady are going to Italy for our anniversary. It's just such a bummer that I have to work on our way there!"

"I'm sure it is," Dean grumbled as Sam released him.

"He's just nervous," Sam said, grabbing his luggage and kicking Dean's shins at the same time, "The parents don't know yet."

Laurel erupted in giggles. "I know how that is! I've got Southern Baptists. What about you?" she inquired, looking at Dean.

"You could call them Catholic," the hunter quietly responded, grabbing his suitcase as he, Sam, and the angel followed the guide. It probably would have been rude to say that they were dead…but right now, Dean wanted to be a bit rude. Her smile was creeping him out.

As they were swallowed by the giant shadow of the ship, Dean looked up towards the sky. This really couldn't be that bad, could it? And so what if Sam found out about…that one thing? Would it really make all that much of a difference? A faint smirk stretched across his face as he thought about it. Sam was always there, no matter what. How could something like this change their bond? They'd been through some tough shit with Ruby and the Apocalypse thing, but somehow, they always made it back to their messed up little relationship.

Right as Dean was wondering all this, so was Sam. That was, until he heard a bit of a strange sound. Laurel was still chattering about her family, Dean nodding occasionally, Cas beaming as he looked at the boat…so what could be making that noise? The wind seemed to pick up just a little, the noise—a strange whirring and moaning-fading, as Sam's eyes widened. Was that…? No. It couldn't be. That was just a dream from when he was a kid….right? He ignored it, blinking quickly to steer his gaze away, and concentrated on following the bubbly woman to their rooms.


	3. The Doctor

Sam collapsed onto the bed, his bags lying in a pile by the door. He just needed some rest, that was all. Maybe even a nice cup of coffee to help him clear his mind. What he had heard, he hadn't really heard at all. That must be it. The lack of sleep that had been piling up on him was just starting to take effect he assured himself. He wiggled his toes, looking around with curiousity.

The room was rather spacious, with wooden floors, two bunk beds, and one single. Sam had chosen the bottom bunk in the bed near the window, farthest from the door. The crisp bed sheets felt silky and soft against the boy's face; it seemed to be so rare he had such a luxury. Sam was used to having dirty, scratchy sheets that had strange stains on them—nothing like these. The walls were well decorated, the occasional painting of autumn trees, coordinating with the maroon tint of the pillows. A pot of flowers stood on the single dresser in the center of the room, white daisies smiling as they looked out from their seat.

Just as Sam was about to get up and move his things, two voices approached the door to the room. The possibility of room-mates had completely slipped his mind, though it seemed like it would be obvious. Why else would there be two other spots, ready and prepared for sleepers? The sasquatch scrambled to grab the bags before someone would trip on them. There was no need to be gaining enemies when they weren't even on a hunt.

"Are you sure you got the right key?" a female voice seemed to ask. The doorknob was twisting back and forth as the newcomers tried in vain to open the lock.

"Yes, yes, I am quite sure. Perhaps it just needs some assistance…" a deeper voice asked, probably that of a man's.

Sam tried not to listen too closely; he didn't want to be too nosey. He tried to busy himself with folding his shirts and placing them in the bottom drawer of the dresser-no one ever picked the bottom—but his hunter's instincts proved it to be easier said than done. There were a number of mutterings from the man, and then a strange, whirring noise, but Sam again tried to ignore them.

"Aha!"

The door flung open, revealing the two speakers. The deeper voice belonged to a tall, lanky man, who stood tall and triumphant, beaming ear to ear. He looked as if he could be wealthy, a blue pinstriped suit, red tie, long tan overcoat and all covering him, but there was something more. His face, although joyful, expressed age—but not in the literal sense. Like he had seen the fall of empires, the beginning and end of life, almost as if he'd seen just about _everything_. You could just see it in his eyes…those weary, brown eyes. There was a feeling of familiarity when Sam looked into those eyes, but perhaps that was because they reminded him of his own. Was there a chance of meeting another hunter? He put the thought behind him.

Beside the man stood a beautiful young woman, the owner of the higher pitched voice, wavy blond hair flowing down to her shoulders. Her cherry red lips smiled at the man, expressing what could only be admiration…or perhaps…? No matter, she stood with her left hand on her hip, the other twirling the keys to the room. Now, if the man's eyes had told Sam all about who he was, this girl's said nothing. They were bright and sparkling, staring up at the brown mess that was the man's hair. They were like two pools of melted chocolate, swirling in such a way that you could get lost in them within seconds. They were surrounded by dark, lengthy lashes, batting seductively as she blinked. Her curved figure was dressed in jeans and a basic t-shirt, nothing fancy. Sam tried not to stare, but he had been absorbed in those muddy eyes of hers.

"Oh! Hello there!" said the man, quickly getting on all fours and scrambling to meet at Sam's level at the dresser. "I'm the Doctor. What's your name?"

It took almost all of the hunter's strength to pull away from the stars that seemed to be focused on him. "Um, my name's Sam."

"You sure your name's not Alonso?"

"Doctor!" the girl giggled, "Behave yourself!"

Sam looked back at the man. "I am quite certain that my name is Sam. Sam Winchester to be exact," he said, standing up. The words were out before he realized he used his real name. He winced a little as he said a quick prayer that they didn't watch the news much.

"Oh would you look at _that_!" the Doctor cooed, "You're a tall one, Sam Winchester. Quite tall indeed!" He shot up, bouncing up from his spot on the floor.

"Ignore him," said the girl, stepping into the room, "My name's Rose. Hope you don't mind us staying with you for the trip to London."

"No problem at all," Sam said, attempting to step back. Whoever this Doctor was, he had no idea what personal space was. If the Doctor moved just an inch, he' be kissing the boy. "Hey, are you guys from—"

"England? Yes, yes. Well, actually no. She is, not me. But that's a whole other story, no need to bore you with the details," the Doctor interjected, turning just so he didn't hit Sam with anything but his spiked hair, "And what about you? I can't quite place you."

"Actually I'm from—"

"Let me guess. Texas?"

"No, uhm, I'm from—"

"Mississippi? No, you don't quite have the southern drawl. Let's see, what about Washington? No, no, too tan for Washington. Somewhere South, I just know it. Oklahoma? Arkansas? Oh! Oh! I know! I've got it! Ontario! Now wait a minute…that's north, isn't it…?"

"Sir," Sam got in as quick as he could, "Kansas. I'm from Kansas."

"Are you sure?" he asked, getting just a little too close again, placing one long finger on Sam's nose, "It doesn't look like it. Too many ultraviolet rays in there for Ontario…but not enough for Kansas…"

"Doctor, please," Rose interrupted, "Remember to take time to breathe."

"Oh alright, but not because you told me to," the Doctor sighed, pulling away from Sam. "I'm going to go get the bags. I'll be back in a tic."

"Is he always like that?" Sam gasped, falling back on the bed again once the stranger was gone.

"No, not always. Just most of the time," Rose giggled, shifting her head so she stood to look at where the Doctor had stood just seconds before.

"So are you two…together…or?"

Rose spun around, her eyes widening to the extent that Sam could swear was not humanly possible. "Oh, no, um, we're just friends. At least that's what I think it is"

"Oh?" He couldn't help but be intrigued. There was something to the way Rose looked at the Doctor…

Rose plopped down to sit next to her new roomie. "I really don't know. I feel like…sometimes there's, you know, this spark, and sometimes, I think he could care less about me. I have no idea what our relationship really is."

Sam took this in for a minute before sitting up, bringing his hands to his knees and saying, "What makes you think that?"

This was a whole new experience for Sam—talking with a human about feelings and emotions. Every time he had tried to do that, he would either be shot down by his brother for having a so called chic-flick moment, or called a name by his father.

"It's a very long and very odd story," she said, looking down at her shoes.

"I'm here to listen."

The two looked up in shock, and there stood the Doctor. When he said he would be back in a tic, he meant it. "What are we talking about?" he asked, throwing the bags to the side and climbing to sit on the top bunk and look down at the pair. "I just love stories."

"Uh, I was, uh just about…to tell the story of how we met, Doctor! I believe Sam would enjoy it," Rose managed to get out. She smiled at the Doctor, he looking at her with a puzzled look.

"Hah!" the Doctor laughed, flipping upside down to get a closer look at his companion, "That is certainly a very odd story! It was quite silly, really. That was when the mannequins went all crazy, wasn't it?"

"Mannequins? What?" Sam asked, puzzled.

"Well, you see, I worked at this shop, and right when I was leaving, it just..." Rose stumbled.

"Exploded! Can you believe that?" the Doctor burst out laughing, "Strangest thing!"

"And here I was, without a job, and who comes knocking on my door?" Rose asked, grinning so wide it was hard for Sam to realize that it was a true smile, "This bum, asking me about what it was like, saying he was some reporter!"

"But you see, I'm really not; I'm actually a…a…well, that's a boring story!"

"And he asks me all these funny questions and all," Rose continued.

"Oh and please don't forget to tell him about Jackie," the Doctor added.

"Goodness gracious, Mum! Now he walks in to the flat and all, and she starts trying to flirt with _him_!" Rose could hardly hold back her laughter.

Sam laughed along with them, smiling, following the story, waiting for what would happen next. He could tell they were leaving out something, and that something was important, but that wasn't really the point. He was enjoying himself, having a good time: something he hadn't really experienced for a while. He sat back and listened, watching them interact. Their kind gestures, their smiles towards each other, the way they looked at each other…it was something that Sam really missed. The last time he had anything like what these two had was when he was with Jessica, and that had been years ago.

The face of his lost love came back to him in his mind, and it dragged his emotions down a little. He never really had the chance to truly grieve her…he put her to the back of his mind and continued to listen to Rose and the Doctor, distracting himself. And for a second, Sam wondered just what Dean and Cas were up to.


	4. The Fire

Dean held his breath until he could hear the quiet _click_ of the door shutting. Only when he knew he was finally alone could he breathe easy. Well, he wasn't exactly alone. There was Cas. Cas. Castiel. There always seemed to be Cas.

The angel at the time was standing right over in the corner of the room, looking into the rounded mirror, adjusting his tie, perhaps attempting to fix it, although Dean was almost certain that was impossible. It was just then that Cas turned and looked at the hunter, staring deep into his sea-green eyes.

There it was. The fire. That feeling Dean felt whenever that particular pair of eyes were on him. Deep in the pit of his stomach, he could feel it burning. Sometimes just a flicker, sometimes an inferno that dared to overtake him—it depended on the day. Today was one of the inferno days, and he hated that. Those were the kind of days where all Dean could do was hold himself back from attacking the angel with rough touches and fierce kisses.

Yes, Dean had feelings for Cas. It hadn't been immediate, of course, it took time. It took Cas practically sacrificing himself to help Dean and his brother—but that was to be expected. Dean didn't trust people quickly. It seemed to always take a life and death situation for his paranoia to finally shut up. Still. He liked Cas…sexually. It didn't mean Dean was all done with women. Hell no. It just mean there was a little more to Dean than the hunter realized.

Now, the fire was burning with a ferocity that refused to be ignored. He could feel it spreading, up his chest, down his legs, even in the tips of his fingers. A lone drop of sweat rolled down the side of his face, only foreshadowing more to come. The heat inside of Dean was so stifling he could hardly breathe.

To make matters worse, there was Cas, his eyes boring into Dean. Moving slowly, up and down, analyzing every last detail of the boy, from the curl of his toes to each freckle that lay on his face. Dean was nearly choking, every second throwing gas onto the flames.

"Is there something, wrong, Dean?" Cas asked, his eyes never faltering.

"Y-yes…" Dean whispered, another bead of sweat falling down. "You're giving me one fucking weird look."

The angel smiled just a bit. "Is it because of yesterday? When…I kissed you? At Bobby's?"

Dean let out a silent moan, clutching onto the sides of his jeans. That one, first kiss. It was brief, but so beautiful. Dean couldn't get thought of it out of his head. It was cool and calm, like the flow of a steady river.

A river that could put out the fire that was taking over.

The expression on his face must have been obvious, Cas slowly removing his tie from around his neck. "There is nothing to be worried about, Dean," he hushed, "There is only us. We are alone."

Oh, that word. _Us_. Dean relished the very sound of it. Two little letters that seemed to trickle down his back; his eyes closed in desire. When they opened, there was the angel, centimeters away from Dean, he slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

"Holy shit, Cas, personal space!"

"There is nothing to be worried about, Dean," he repeated, "There is only us."

With that, there was a quiet _chink_. Dean's belt had fallen to the floor. Slowly, without any touch, his pants were unzipping.

"C-Cas-what the hell are you doing?"

The angel put a single finger on the boy's lips. That one touch cooled the fire just a bit, releasing steam, sending a sensation that Dean had never felt before through his entire body. Dean began to shudder, taking it all in. Within minutes, they stood before each other, bare. The fire had completely engulfed Dean now; all he wanted was the river that lay in Castiel's touch. But how to go about it? He hadn't even allowed himself to watch any gay porn; what did they even do?

No, he knew what they did—well—kinda. It couldn't be that different from doing it with a girl.

He decided to start out simple. His tongue darted out of his lips for just a split second, barely even touching the lone finger that stood guard.

"My, my," Cas murmured, "You don't know what to do, do you?"

Dean looked down, probably a mistake. He nearly lost the ability to stand after seeing Cas' dick. What was going on?

Castiel took the timid hunter's hand, leading him to the bed. His pale skin was so inviting, simply calling out to Dean to touch it. And oh, did Dean want to touch it…_all _of it. Dean shifted so that he was perched overtop of Cas, his lips just touching the angel's neck. It was then that he let go, and simply _touched_. A kiss here, a lick there. A tap here, a stroke there. Everything was so foreign…yet so wonderful. Dean felt like a virgin all over again…and that made him uncomfortable.

Minutes passed as the hunter experimented, examining his subject. But Cas would only allow this for so long. He finally took charge, pinning Dean, his strong figure now so weak, down on the bed. He took a quick look before diving in, his lips moving up and down Dean's body, his tongue leaving a sticky trail. Dean moaned and sighed, his hips bucking occasionally.

"Y-yes, oh _yes_," Dean groaned, his hands moving to grip onto Castiel's ass.

The angel seemed to like that. He moved his mouth down to hover over top of Dean's now obvious erection before rewarding the hunter with a slow, humid lick.

Dean screamed. He could swear he lost a brain cell or two from the pure ecstasy.

"Cas! Oh goodness, Cas don't you stop, don't you dare!" he growled.

The angel did as told, moving his tongue so that it touched every inch of Dean's cock. And oh, Dean loved it. The only tangible word that Cas could make out from Dean's cries was an exchange of "yes" and several profanities. The hunter felt like a pathetic excuse of a sex-partner, but didn't do anything to change that.

He tried to move and act according to the intensities of Dean's cries, licking more, even a little bite here and there. Soon enough, Cas couldn't keep up with him. The hunter was going to climax after one more lick, and the angel wanted to hold it out. This would be the first time Dean would come due to the Castiel's actions, and he wanted it to blow the hunter's mind.

He slowly pulled back, Dean panting, sweating, calling for more.

"Please, oh god, Cas, please, oh please," he pleaded, his anxious hands pulling at his tangled hair. It had been neat and gelled only a little bit ago, but now it was a mess of sweat and saliva. The boy's hips rocked back and forth, the blood rushing, the fire burning, the heart in his chest pounding. Cas licked his fingers, making sure they were dripping in his salivation, only tempting and teasing Dean even more.

"Cas, please, please, p-please!" Dean begged. "Don't be an ass!"

With that, Cas took his wet hand and stroked Dean's sex, pumping faster and faster, Dean moaning and grunting, his hips moving in synch with the angel's hand. It didn't take long before Dean lost all control, screaming, nearly tearing the sheets as he came. He had never felt anything like this before, and god he didn't want it to end.

For hours, Cas and Dean continued their touches, kisses, and licks. And for those couple hours, Dean lost himself in the steam that rose as the cool watery caresses of Cas came into contact with his own fiery skin.


	5. The Serenade

The room was dark, completely black with the exception of a small sliver of light peeking through the bottom of the door. Sam turned, shifting himself to find a clock. What time was it? Hopefully it wasn't too late: he hadn't had dinner yet. Rose, the Doctor, and he had spoken and talked for hours, telling stories, laughing, and smiling in the warmth of the room. In the silence, though, everything seemed a bit cold.

The clock read 2 am. The hunter couldn't help but sigh, roll over, and crawl out of his spot in the bed. He reached around, looking for the light switch, or possibly his phone, so he could see and maybe even fix his hair. It had to be a mess.

Aha! There! Sam had found the switch. With the flick of his pointer finger, the room was lit. There was a whimper, almost a call of disapproval to his left.

Rose! She was asleep in the single bed, a pile of clothes by the side. Immediately, the boy threw both hands on the now-on switch, flapping them around until the darkness finally returned. He certainly didn't want to wake her up; he'd better get out of there. The hunter tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door silently. With a step forward, he was in the hallway of the cabins, every now and then a door with a number posted on it.

Sam shoved his hands in pockets. Where was the dining room, the bar, anywhere that served food? He hungrily bit at his lip, wandering a bit to the left. Perhaps there was something by that one door down near the entrance; it had a formal look to it, foggy glass, "gold" borders, a couple of potted plants beside it. Where was everyone? Yes, it was two in the morning, but shouldn't there be at least someone out? Alone, Sam wandered around, looking with an expression blanker than that of a white sheet of paper.

What was that? The sound of footsteps echoed, filling Sam's ears. He smiled; perhaps they would know where there was some food. But wait a minute…what on Earth was that other sound? It was a little bit like whirring, or something you'd hear on Star Trek. The boy slowed his steps, his natural instinct to hide kicking in. He creeped along the side of the wall, gaining on the mysterious walker, yet running out of wall at the same time. Once he reached the end, he let his head peek out over the corner just a bit, simply enough to look at the stranger.

Was that…the Doctor? What was he doing? There seemed to be a silver pen in his right hand, occasionally glowing with an eerie blue light. The Doctor appeared to be scanning the halls, running the pen over each and every door, with only the occasional pause to take it closer to his face, stare at the contraption for a second, and then move onto the next door.

"Now now," he mused, "What exactly are you?" The man threw the pen into his overcoat pocket and ran off, nearing the well decorated exit doors. Sam now exposed himself, watching the Doctor with a puzzled gaze. Something was up. He'd certainly hadn't seen that pen before: it might be some old relic or maybe even a new EMF detector. Either this man was an angel of some sort, or a hunter, Sam was sure of that now. What would an angel want on a cruise ship, and why would he travel with a human? And if he was a hunter, what was he hunting? And was Rose one too?

No, the Doctor couldn't be an angel. He wouldn't be socially adapted enough to hold a conversation like the one he had earlier, or be that nice. All angels were total dicks…except Cas. On occasion. They had to be hunters.

Sam pushed his thoughts away, following the Doctor. Hallway after hallway they went, Sam about 30 feet behind the man at all times. It must have been 20 minutes later that the Doctor pressed against two large doors, larger and more well decorated then the rest Sam had seen, and went off onto the deck of the cruiser. What would he being doing, outside, this early in the morning? What was with this guy?

Sam naturally took a pause before urging his legs to continue going, following the Doctor again. The cold air hit Sam like a body slam from Dean. He certainly didn't realize just how warm it had been inside, and he certainly hoped that the Doctor would return quickly. The hunter buttoned up his jacket, looking around anxiously. Where did he go? The deck was relatively dull, the occasional sitting chair here and there, an umbrella over there, nothing much. Only one thing stood out: a tall blue box.

Memories filled Sam's head. A song sung by a beautiful woman, sweet and melodic, her sparkling brown eyes looking down at him, her blonde hair resting at her shoulders. A man in a long coat, twirling the girl around, humming along, dancing with her, holding her like she was a priceless glass sculpture. Dean, only a few years old, smiling, watching the pair with a look of pure joy. Sam, holding onto Dean's small hand, the other held up, his thumb in his mouth. And then there was that tall, blue box, lights pouring out of its open doors, revealing an unbelievable sight.

The boy shook his head. What was going on? That head of his was playing tricks on him again, just like it had at Bobby's; it had to be. But then again, as he looked once more upon the blue box, the song reentering his mind, echoing like the faint melody of an old music box. He found himself walking closer and closer, his large, calloused hand lying on the icy metal of the handle. With that touch, the door opened just a crack, light streaming out, filling Sam's head with the song, now louder than ever, whispering for him to enter. And without knowing it, he did just that.


	6. The Something

Dean's eyes opened wide, staring into the darkness of the room he was sharing with Cas. Something wasn't right. _Something_ was going on. He just simply couldn't place what that something was. Flipping the lights on, Dean collected his clothes and quickly pulled them on, one hand buttoning his jeans, the other searching for Castiel. Where was he? A disgruntled huff escaped his lips.

"Looking for me?"

The angel stood to Dean's left, dressed and appearing to have been out in some sort of wind storm. Each strand of hair was going the opposite direction of the other; certainly more of a mess than when the two had spent hours together.

"What the hell happened to your hair?" Dean inquired, putting his left arm in leather coat.

"It is not of import. Where is your brother?" Cas kept a blank face, his eyes starting directly into Dean's. For a moment, it almost seemed like there was a hint of worry hiding behind the facade.

"I don't know. Probably asleep," the hunter offered, but the feeling in his stomach told him that the something that was wrong had to do with Sam. He held back the expletive sitting on his tongue.

"That is not the case. I checked his room; there is only a strange blond woman in one of the beds. Usually you know where he goes off to."

"Maybe he got lucky, I dunno. I don't follow him everywhere, Cas."

"You always know," Castiel pressed.

"I was a bit preoccupied," Dean let out shakily, suddenly finding a fascination with the shade of blue in the angel's tie.

"Gabriel should know where he is; I shall consult him."

"Wait, what?!" he let out a bit louder than he should have, "Why would you call _him_?" Unpleasant memories of the Trickster filled Dean's mind. It was more than just the incident where he killed him over and over again in order to scar Sam into accepting Dean's eventual death, it was how the guy got such kicks out of killing people in such tortuous ways. It really didn't make sense that he was an angel.

Cas did actually smile this time, it was quite clear he found the subject amusing. "He is your brother's guardian angel."

It took a second for Dean to respond. "Well, that explains why everything hits the fan when it comes to the existence that is Sammy."

Within seconds, the Trickster appeared in the small room. Hair slicked back, green eyes twinkling with the anticipation of another great adventure, grin wider than should be possible. Dean rolled his eyes. Dammit. Now nothing would get done.

"Hey there, Dean-o! How's it going? And little brother, why are you bothering me? I was baking a cake! Well, actually, it was more of pouring some Pepsi in a cake mix and just improvising from there…"

"We can't find Sam," said Dean impatiently.

"Have you checked under the bed? That moose is probably just playing hide-and-seek!" Gabe laughed, pulling a chocolate bar from his pocket.

The stern faces of Dean and Castiel, but mainly Dean, told Gabriel that this was a serious thing, and not something to kid around about, though he really didn't want to accept it.

"Goodness, man, you two are just like that Mary chick. Can't take a joke. I try to break the ice, tell a joke or two, but no, she just wants to know why a strange glowing man with six pairs of wings is hanging out in her little hut! And then, get this, I tell her she's preggo, and then boom! Everything gets all awkward. People….jeez."

The two continued to stare at Gabriel, Dean's expression turning into more of one of hatred than disapproval. The shorter angel began to twitch uncomfortably. There really wasn't anything good that could come from a look like that from Dean. It was usually the prelude to a stabbing of some sort.

"Alright, alright, don't go all trigger happy on me, I'll see if I can find him. I just need something that he owns to help guide me. Surprisingly, I actually have more than one kid under my watch; it's not just your sasquatch."

For a second, Castiel was gone, but he shortly returned with a comb in his right hand. Cas gently took Gabe's hand and placed the comb in his palm.

"Somebody's nice," Gabriel chuckled, "let me see here…"

Suddenly, lights flashed, almost too bright to keep eyes open, and the flutter of wings was deafening. Yet, there was a voice…no, two voices! One of a man, one of a woman, and neither one of them Sam.

"I know where he is, but it is unfamiliar to me-" Gabriel began.

"There is no need. I can recognize that voice from anywhere. Dean, leave your gun. That is powerless to what is holding your brother. Quick, we must go before Sam is lost."


	7. The Oncoming Storm

The sound of feet stomping on the ground echoed throughout the hallways. Dean was having a bit of trouble keeping up with Castiel, but he didn't really mind being a few steps behind. Whatever they were running to, whatever had Sam, Cas knew it was dangerous. Castiel had told Dean to keep his gun back in the hotel room, but there was no way he was going to leave it. That thing was almost always with him, ever since his father had given it to him when he turned 17.

Gabe had made sure to leave as quickly as he could. Once Castiel had made it clear that they were to go and find Sam, he immediately became antsy, unsure about joining. He made some sad excuse about his cake needing him, and that he'd be more trouble than help. There, Dean agreed, but said nothing.

"Dean, we must hurry!" Cas called, quickening his pace to that similar of a cheetah in sprint.

The hunter took in a deep breath before pumping his legs a little faster, a little stronger. He was used to running, but never this fast! Maybe he was just a little worn out from…before. But he was certain not even Sam ran this quickly, and his legs were as long as some of the skyscrapers in New York. Maybe they should have brought silver, holy water, salt…anything that could help them.

"What the hell are we even going after?" Dean huffed out, hot beads of sweat running down his temple.

"Nothing you've ever dealt with before," was the quick response.

The hunter suddenly wished for the other angel to be there, just for back up. Or Bobby. Hell, why not have the whole crew join up and invite Ellen and Jo while they were at it.

"Cas," Dean scolded, hardly able to keep moving, "You have to communicate! Isn't that what couples do?"

There was a moment of silence except for Dean's hard breathing and two pairs of heavy footfalls.

"It's complicated, Dean."

"It's not like I haven't heard anything crazy before. You have to tell me just what it is if we're going to get Sam back safely. I can't go in blind!"

Another helping of silence. It was clear that Cas was weighing the two options. Either he could tell Dean and risk the usual shoot now ask questions later response, or he could keep it to himself, and be at greater risk of Dean doing something irrationally, purely because he's already angry.

The two were nearing their destination. It couldn't be avoided.

Cas sighed. "Your brother is with an alien."

"What?"

"Your brother is with an alien."

"I heard you the first time! This just doesn't make any sense."

"It will in a minute."

They were stopped running, standing outside, stars shining down on them, a tall blue box right in front of them. Dean took in the crisp air, very much out of breath. Cas simply looked up at the sky, quietly whispering a prayer. His companion tried to listen in to the silent words, making out only a couple in each sentence.

"Are…are you praying a protection prayer?" Dean asked nervously.

"We will need it. This man, this alien, is the most powerful being in the universe, only second to my father. We have seen this man end empires, destroy worlds, and conquer men with incomprehensible power. He is a force to be reckoned with," the angel said timidly, continuing to look at the stars.

"What's this sucker called?"

"We don't know his true name…he goes by many. But for those who fear him, they call him the Oncoming Storm."

"And he's hiding, with Sammy, in this little box?" Dean asked quizzically. It was clear he was having trouble seeing the seriousness of the situation. Cas frowned, but nodded his head, continuing his prayer.

"Well the little sign here says to pull to open it…" Dean reached out for the handle, his angel watching with a face of terror, a face that Dean had never seen before. As he gripped the cool metal, he shut his eyes in fear, pulling just so. The creak of the wooden door was heard, voices and light flowing from it.

"Dean, no!"

The hunter opened one eye. All oxygen that was inside of him escaped, as if someone had punched him straight in the gut. Wires fell from the tall, curved ceiling. Lights seemed to be everywhere imaginable, paneling against the walls. Growing from the bottom of the contraption, there were trees, countless, curved trees without leaves, simply filling up some of the immense space. At the center, there was a strange, foreign device, a few lights inside of a tall glass cylinder glowing a shade of electric blue. Underneath of it was its base, covered in buttons, screens, levers, and even more lights.

In the middle of this contraption, there stood a tall, lanky brunette man in a striped suit. His red converse shoes tapped on the glass bottom impatiently as the stranger spoke to a woman on the screen in front of him. His voice seemed to dance around the huge space, bouncing off of one wall and hitting another. To add upon that, his body seemed to dance around it, sprinting to one side of the center device to another, as if trying to catch the noise with an elaborate ballet. It was in his movements that he swirled around, his face staring straight at the open door that revealed Dean and Castiel.

Two words left his mouth. Two simple words. Two words that the angel had never expected to leave the lips of this figure.

"You're back."


	8. The Confrontation

"So you're actually real…"

Dean stared at the slim man in front of him, comparing every detail with what he could remember from his childhood. Castiel simply looked deeply at Dean, attempting to evaluate what was going through his mind, and every time he thought he had something, he would lose it, remembering those two damn words.

"What do you mean by that?" the tall man asked. "Of course I'm real! Why would you think differently?" He seemed a bit offended, puffing up his chest in protest.

"It…it was just…" Dean stuttered, "…just so long ago. I was like…six? And then the second time-"

Cas cut him off.

"The second time? How many times have you met with this alien?" His blue eyes raged like ice; the hunter could almost feel the chill coming from his displeased gaze.

The tall man hopped down the stairs that led to the door and focused on the angel. "Now, now, no needing to get angry! I apologize for making you a tad miffed, but honestly, they were just chance encounters. Dean simply ran into me twice."

Face scrunching up, Dean looked at the man sideways. "How do you know my name?"

"You told me! Well, more like whispered it. A friend of mine, where is she? She had to repeat it to me. I do believe your last name would be…Winchester. Yes, Winchester. I never forget a name. Never." The Doctor grinned wide, victoriously putting his hands in his pockets.

"That's right-where's that girl? Uhm, the princess...Briar Rose. Where is she hiding?" Dean now mimicked the man's smile, looking off into the distance, picturing her as his faded memories provided.

"Is there anyone else you want to tell me that you've met? Anyone else that can change the universe with the snap of a finger?" Castiel accused, his usually monotone scruff of a voice raising and shaking.

"Cas, geez, snap out of it! I thought this guy was one of my imaginary friends from when I was a kid!" Dean declared, he shaky at best. It was clear this strange situation was bothering him.

"Did you have anymore? Maybe you went on adventures with Judas. Or even better, Merlin the sorcerer probably had ice cream with you!" Cas yelled.

"Merlin, is, how shall I say this…well, me," the man said a bit sheepishly, pointing to himself, which really didn't help at all. Cas only turned his back on him with an aggravated huff.

"Will you just listen to me?" The plea that came from the hunter's lips was nearly silent, but filled with enough desperation that it could fill the entire expanse of the strange blue box.

The wrath that was residing within the angel melted away, as if every syllable in those six words was like the warm, lazy rays of the sun, warming his heart and turning his anger into a small, ever growing pile of regret. He gathered himself and turned around, his eyes no longer full of ice, but the heat of the ocean; hopefully that would be enough for Dean.

It appeared to be so. Dean sighed with relief, smiling a bit at Cas. The tall man watched, eyes jumping from one face to another, not quite sure what to expect. Dean opened his mouth, only to be cut off by a yell from the back of the contraption.

"Dean! Dean! Cas! Gabe! …somebody! Are you there?" A concerned face emerged from a doorway: Sam. He stood looking at the expanse of the box, pulling a hand through his hair. "Oh thank God, Dean! Where are we?"

"Where are we? Where are _we?_ Why, my friend," the tall man said, skipping up the stairs and sliding over to Sam's huge frame, "We are on the good ship TARDIS! Time and relative dimensions in space! There is nothing to be afraid of here! No bad guys can get in here while I'm around. Well, except for that one time. And that other time. Oh! And I can't forget that other _other_ time-"

"Sammy, how do you know this guy?" Dean asked, "I mean, you were around when he was, but it's not like he talked to you or anything…"

"He's my bunk mate," Sam said plainly.

"You are rooming…with…the Oncoming Storm?" Cas stated quizzically.

"Oh now, only these silly things that look like overturned trashcans call me that," the man said, "Please call me the Doctor." Again, that wide grin was upon his face.

"Doctor? That means healer and teacher. Quite a strange name for a creature that destroys planets and executes thousands," the angel stated a bit muted.

"Hey hey hey hey," the Doctor said quickly crossing the stairs yet again, "I don't do that anymore. Changed man. Plus, I'm not a creature; I'm a timelord. Would you like it if I called you a creature who massacred thousands?"

"On occasion I have done such," Cas retorted, "but that comes with the job of an angel. We are warriors of God."

The Doctor laughed in his face. "An angel? And you work for God? Big man upstairs? Dean, I know that you believed in demons when you were a child, but now you waltz about with a man who is convinced that he's an angel?"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "Uh…he actually _is _an angel…"

It appeared as if the Doctor was about to go on a full-fledged rant, but he was cut off by a cheerful call from outside the door.

"Hello! Doctor! You said you weren't going to sleep in the TARDIS! Why'd you leave me all alone? And why's the door locked? Hello!"

The owner of the voice knocked on the door quickly and repeatedly. The Doctor shut his mouth a little reluctantly, but made his way towards to the door. Before taking the handle, he looked at the small group that had gathered in his ship.

"Hide! Or something! She's gonna think I've captured you or something," he whispered, shooing the two hunters and the angel. They quickly followed orders and ran back down the hallway Sam had emerged from earlier.

"Doctor! Is something wrong?"

"Evening!" he said, swinging the door wide open. "Sorry about leaving you; I had to make a call."

"To who? At this hour?" the girl said, making her way in, dressed in a silk, floor-length nightgown. "Oh, let me guess, my mum."

"Nah, for once Jackie isn't bothering me," he sighed, looking at her softly, "Just a friend of mine who has no sense of time. Aren't you cold?"

"Changing the subject, I see," she smiled, "It must have been one of your many mistresses,"

"Rose, what lofty stories are you making up now? Is all of space and time not exciting enough for you?" He slowly followed her as she wondered around the center of blue box.

"It's simply a guess. You've been traveling for quite some time…you must have had many loves." She turned around, a delicate hand in her golden hair.

"I can assure you, that's not true," the Doctor said quietly, avoiding her eyes. "It's just been me."

Rose laughed a little, turning back, now stepping closer and closer to the hunters' hiding place. The three men attempted not to breathe, but it was difficult, well, difficult for the two human men. The Doctor seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact, almost dreaming as his eyes followed the blonde. Cas looked blankly at the scene that was unfolding before them. A strange smirk seemed to strike his face; as if he was planning something. Dean glared at him, shaking his head quickly, hoping to dismiss the idea from Castiel's mind.

It was then that there was a loud crash as Cas disappeared from sight. Panic struck Dean's face as he looked towards the door and saw the angel crumpled on the stairs.

"Who's that?" Rose questioned, backing into the hallway, running into Dean in the process. She screamed, turning to look at the hunter with fear. "And who are you? What are you doing in the TARDIS?"

Sam took a step forward, holding up both hands, "We didn't mean to-"

Rose blinked again and again, her face showing only fear. She scrambled to take a fighting stance, looking back to the Doctor every second or so. "Doctor! What's going on?"

"I can explain-" Dean struggled to say loud enough to be heard, "Please, princess, you don't need to be afraid."

"Princess?" she repeated, relaxing some. "Wait a minute…Dean? Dean Winchester?"


	9. The Desire

"You haven't aged a day," Dean smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry to barge in like this. My idiot of a brother got lost and landed up in here. Somebody's gotta take care of him."

Cas decided then that it was a good idea to transport himself back to Dean, Sam, and Rose from his place behind the Doctor. The girl was startled for a minute, taking a couple steps back again, only to fall into the ready arms of the Doctor. "How—what—how'd he do that?" she asked, looking up at the Doctor.

"For once, I don't know the answer to your question. He claims to be an angel…" the Doctor responded, hands softly massaging Rose's shoulders.

"Princess," Cas started, "As Dean calls you, there is nothing to be alarmed at. I am the angel Castiel, but do not come to bring judgment."

"Why do you keep calling me Princess? I thought we went over this, Dean, last time we met. My name is Rose, not Briar Rose. I'm no princess; just a girl from London." She gave a gentle grin.

"But when I met you…you wore that pink gown, you sung, and an evil witch was after you. You even had a crown!" Dean looked puzzled, but he quickly caught on. "You came back from traveling to the medieval times…"

"Yes," Rose coaxed, "And…?"

"So the whole getup was to fit in. But what about the evil witch?"

"Simply a stowaway on the TARDIS. That was one of those times that a bag guy got in here," the Doctor laughed, remembering. "That was quite a fun one, was it not?"

"Would you like to fill us in? Cuz right now, I'm a bit lost," Sam growled, a little more than irritated.

"That is for another time, my friend," the Doctor declared, "It is now time to get some sleep! Who knows what adventures lay ahead?"

"You guys are explaining everything to me, the second we're all awake! I don't care what's going on, you have to tell me. I don't like not knowing things," Sam's glance bounced from Rose to the Doctor to Dean. "No getting out of it."

"That is all fine. Should we invite Gabriel to this event? Knowing him, he will want to hear this too. However, it is also likely that he will somehow ruin everything," Castiel said grimly, almost as if he was remembering one of his brother's tricks. "Perhaps we could tell him later, when there are less living things around."

Dean chuckled. "Alright, that sounds like a deal to me. It's no secret I don't like that dick. Even if he is Sammy's guardian angel."

"What? He's my guardian angel? Are you kidding me? He's done a shit job at it, I'll tell you that!" Sam fumed, hands clenching into fists.

"And that is our cue to leave," Castiel muttered, pushing the boys toward the door as they complained about all the tricks that the famous angel had pulled on them. "Tomorrow morning, we shall meet you on the upper deck of the ship, around eleven. If you are not there, we shall find you."

With that, the angel and the two hunters disappeared.

"I need to figure out how he does that," the tall man muttered to himself, eyes concentrating on where Cas had stood.

"Come on, you should listen to your own advice and get some shut eye," Rose said, pulling away from the Doctor's grip. Well, attempting to pull away from his grip.

"What's the rush?" he asked, his voice lowered. "I'm certainly not tired yet. I doubt that you're sleepy anymore, now that you've been spooked by those fellows."

"What's with these Americans being so tall? Did you see them all?" she chuckled, "As tall as a bear on its hind legs. Perhaps they're all aliens?"

"We'll have to a scan tomorrow, just to make sure," the Doctor said, gazing off into the distance, his hands slowly working on the small of her back. A little whimper of delight left Rose, her body shivering in joy.

She turned around, hands on the warm cheeks of the Doctor's face. "Now, what should we do? You are right, I'm not tired."

The Doctor tried to breathe, looking down at his companion. Her perfectly round face was staring right up at him, only centimeters away his. He could only imagine that the sheer white silk of her nightgown would be cool upon contact. Her chest rose and fell elegantly with every breath, her breasts almost spilling out of the dress. It was simply a delectable sight.

The hands that rested on Rose's shoulders grew cold and clammy, sweaty with anxiety. Words that seemed to flow so easily ceased to come as he looked at the full figure of the so-called princess. Yet her looks truly didn't matter to the Doctor. It was her that mattered. The fact that she was Rose was what drew him to her. Not her walk, not the way she talked, not even her body mattered. It was the way she smiled at him as he skittered around the TARDIS. It was the way she never gave up on him, even when it looked like all hope was lost. It was how she protected a young child against a fierce enemy, no matter the risk.

Yes, the Doctor had loved before. There were others. But none of them were anything like Rose. None of them had been as brave, as intelligent, as compassionate as Rose was. Every bit of him loved her. Both of his hearts only pumped blood through his system so that he could function for her. Now here she was, eyes looking up at him, her sweet breath on his neck.

Rose pulled the Doctor's face closer to hers, giving him a quick kiss, one that only lasted for half of a second. As she pulled back, the Doctor looked down at her, his eyes now flaring with lust. He grabbed her body, pressing her close to him, as he kissed her neck. With each brief contact, Rose moaned a little, yearning for more.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you," he whispered in-between pecks.

"Nine hundred years," she whispered back, her hands lacing through his hair.

"Nine hundred and _seven_," he corrected, giving a short lick to her neck. Rose sighed deeply, wanting more.

The Doctor moved his attention to his companion's lips, caressing them with his own. They moved together, slowly, patiently, tantalizing so. It was Rose who began to move her body down to the floor, dragging her partner with her. She relished the almost-sugary make-out session they had begun, but she desired more. It pained her to pull away, the Doctor let out a cry of protest, but it ceased as she began to pull the silk gown over her head. Before it was completely gone from her body, the Doctor put a hand on her arm.

"Are you sure about this? I don't want you to do this without being sure."

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure of what I've wanted."

With that, the white dress was discarded, thrown across the room. The Doctor hesitated for a moment before taking one breast in his hand, kissing it as Rose began to disrobe him. First the tie, then the shirt, then the pants, and then...

The Doctor licked the woman's nipple, giving a gentle, playful bite on occasion. Rose would squeal, letting out a cry of delight at each one. She found herself unable to do almost anything. The powerful woman lay on the floor of the TARDIS like a puddle, sweating, huffing, moaning.

"Take me," she whispered, "Doctor, take me now."

"I can do that," he murmured, almost purring as he slid his body on top of hers in a way that he could do as she asked.

"Now," she groaned, "Now now now."

It was only seconds before the Doctor obeyed her orders, placing his sex inside of hers, embracing the warmth of her very being. They both let out a cry that only lovers do. What they were doing was not just having intercourse…they were making love. Hot, sticky, love. The best kind that there is.

Almost as if he was unsure what to do, the Doctor simply laid above her, breathing quiet words of love. Rose responded to him, bucking her hips so that he was deeper into her. This time, the Doctor knew what to do. He put a hand on the floor beside Rose's head, gained balance, and let out another moan as he thrust himself into her again.

Pleasure filled their bodies. Everything else began to fade from existence. Time…space…silly angels…everything. It only took a couple of minutes before they were drenched in sweat, calling each other's names as they pushed against each other and bucked again and again, rocking their bodies to the waves of orgasm that overtook them.


	10. The Wait

"You haven't aged a day," Dean smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Sorry to barge in like this. My idiot of a brother got lost and landed up in here. Somebody's gotta take care of him."

Cas decided then that it was a good idea to transport himself back to Dean, Sam, and Rose from his place behind the Doctor. The girl was startled for a minute, taking a couple steps back again, only to fall into the ready arms of the Doctor. "How—what—how'd he do that?" she asked, looking up at the Doctor.

"For once, I don't know the answer to your question. He claims to be an angel…" the Doctor responded, hands softly massaging Rose's shoulders.

"Princess," Cas started, "As Dean calls you, there is nothing to be alarmed at. I am the angel Castiel, but do not come to bring judgment."

"Why do you keep calling me Princess? I thought we went over this, Dean, last time we met. My name is Rose, not Briar Rose. I'm no princess; just a girl from London." She gave a gentle grin.

"But when I met you…you wore that pink gown, you sung, and an evil witch was after you. You even had a crown!" Dean looked puzzled, but he quickly caught on. "You came back from traveling to the medieval times…"

"Yes," Rose coaxed, "And…?"

"So the whole getup was to fit in. But what about the evil witch?"

"Simply a stowaway on the TARDIS. That was one of those times that a bag guy got in here," the Doctor laughed, remembering. "That was quite a fun one, was it not?"

"Would you like to fill us in? Cuz right now, I'm a bit lost," Sam growled, a little more than irritated.

"That is for another time, my friend," the Doctor declared, "It is now time to get some sleep! Who knows what adventures lay ahead?"

"You guys are explaining everything to me, the second we're all awake! I don't care what's going on, you have to tell me. I don't like not knowing things," Sam's glance bounced from Rose to the Doctor to Dean. "No getting out of it."

"That is all fine. Should we invite Gabriel to this event? Knowing him, he will want to hear this too. However, it is also likely that he will somehow ruin everything," Castiel said grimly, almost as if he was remembering one of his brother's tricks. "Perhaps we could tell him later, when there are less living things around."

Dean chuckled. "Alright, that sounds like a deal to me. It's no secret I don't like that dick. Even if he is Sammy's guardian angel."

"What? He's my guardian angel? Are you kidding me? He's done a shit job at it, I'll tell you that!" Sam fumed, hands clenching into fists.

"And that is our cue to leave," Castiel muttered, pushing the boys toward the door as they complained about all the tricks that the famous angel had pulled on them. "Tomorrow morning, we shall meet you on the upper deck of the ship, around eleven. If you are not there, we shall find you."

With that, the angel and the two hunters disappeared.

"I need to figure out how he does that," the tall man muttered to himself, eyes concentrating on where Cas had stood.

"Come on, you should listen to your own advice and get some shut eye," Rose said, pulling away from the Doctor's grip. Well, attempting to pull away from his grip.

"What's the rush?" he asked, his voice lowered. "I'm certainly not tired yet. I doubt that you're sleepy anymore, now that you've been spooked by those fellows."

"What's with these Americans being so tall? Did you see the brother, Sam?" she chuckled, "As tall as a bear on its hind legs. Perhaps he's an alien?"

"We'll have to a scan tomorrow, just to make sure," the Doctor said, gazing off into the distance, his hands slowly working on the small of her back. A little whimper of delight left Rose, her body shivering in joy.

She turned around, hands on the warm cheeks of the Doctor's face. "Now, what should we do? You are right, I'm not tired."

The Doctor tried to breathe, looking down at his companion. Her perfectly round face was staring right up at him, only centimeters away his. He could only imagine that the sheer white silk of her nightgown would be cool upon contact. Her chest rose and fell elegantly with every breath, her breasts almost spilling out of the dress. It was simply a delectable sight.

The hands that rested on Rose's shoulders grew cold and clammy, sweaty with anxiety. Words that seemed to flow so easily ceased to come as he looked at the full figure of the so-called princess. Yet her looks truly didn't matter to the Doctor. It was her that mattered. The fact that she was Rose was what drew him to her. Not her walk, not the way she talked, not even her body mattered. It was the way she smiled at him as he skittered around the TARDIS. It was the way she never gave up on him, even when it looked like all hope was lost. It was how she protected a young child against a fierce enemy, no matter the risk.

Yes, the Doctor had loved before. There were others. But none of them were anything like Rose. None of them had been as brave, as intelligent, as compassionate as Rose was. Every bit of him loved her. Both of his hearts only pumped blood through his system so that he could function for her. Now here she was, eyes looking up at him, her sweet breath on his neck.

Rose pulled the Doctor's face closer to hers, giving him a quick kiss, one that only lasted for half of a second. As she pulled back, the Doctor looked down at her, his eyes now flaring with lust. He grabbed her body, pressing her close to him, as he kissed her neck. With each brief contact, Rose moaned a little, yearning for more.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you," he whispered in-between pecks.

"Nine hundred years," she whispered back, her hands lacing through his hair.

"Nine hundred and _seven_," he corrected, giving a short lick to her neck. Rose sighed deeply, wanting more.

The Doctor moved his attention to his companion's lips, caressing them with his own. They moved together, slowly, patiently, tantalizing so. It was Rose who began to move her body down to the floor, dragging her partner with her. She relished the almost-sugary make-out session they had begun, but she desired more. It pained her to pull away, the Doctor let out a cry of protest, but it ceased as she began to pull the silk gown over her head. Before it was completely gone from her body, the Doctor put a hand on her arm.

"Are you sure about this? I don't want you to do this without being sure."

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure of what I've wanted."

With that, the white dress was discarded, thrown across the room. The Doctor hesitated for a moment before taking one breast in his hand, kissing it as Rose began to disrobe him. First the tie, then the shirt, then the pants, and then...

The Doctor licked the woman's nipple, giving a gentle, playful bite on occasion. Rose would squeal, letting out a cry of delight at each one. She found herself unable to do almost anything. The powerful woman lay on the floor of the TARDIS like a puddle, sweating, huffing, moaning.

"Take me," she whispered, "Doctor, take me now."

"I can do that," he murmured, almost purring as he slid his body on top of hers in a way that he could do as she asked.

"Now," she groaned, "Now now now."

It was only seconds before the Doctor obeyed her orders, placing his sex inside of hers, embracing the warmth of her very being. They both let out a cry that only lovers do. What they were doing was not just having intercourse…they were making love. Hot, sticky, love. The best kind that there is.

Almost as if he was unsure what to do, the Doctor simply laid above her, breathing quiet words of love. Rose responded to him, bucking her hips so that he was deeper into her. This time, the Doctor knew what to do. He put a hand on the floor beside Rose's head, gained balance, and let out another moan as he thrust himself into her again.

Pleasure filled their bodies. Everything else began to fade from existence. Time…space…silly angels…everything. It only took a couple of minutes before they were drenched in sweat, calling each other's names as they pushed against each other and bucked again and again, rocking their bodies to the waves of orgasm that overtook them.


	11. The Intrusion

"Doctor," Rose called, "Do you realize what time it is?"

"Blimey, Rose, I really don't think I could go another round, so please, please please do not say that it's sex-time…" the Doctor sighed, stretching his long body on the bed the two were currently residing in.

"No, no, I mean the actual time," his partner said, "It's half past one in the afternoon! Have we seriously been fucking for _that_ long?" The girl grabbed her bra and panties before she wandered out of the room to find one of the TARDIS's many walk-in closets.

"What? I thought it was only around nine!" the Doctor sprang out of the bed, only covered by a blue pair of boxer-briefs that hugged his form quite tightly. "Didn't the crazy angel and the boys say they would meet us at eleven?"

"It may have been earlier than that, I really can't remember!" Rose responded as she shoved the doors open to her favorite closet. Well, _now_ it was her favorite, but she couldn't get distracted by remembering the events of the previous hours. She dug in, feeling around for soft t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

"Do you see any clean suits in there?" the Doctor asked, appearing in the doorway. "Well, not just clean, but you know, nice and sharp. There's really no time for a shower, so it'd be better if my clothes looked, well, good."

"There's about eighty in here, have your pick. Do you think it'll be hot outside?" She picked up a plain pink t-shirt and slipped it on.

"Ah, I've got one that'll look quite nice," the Doctor said, pulling out on of his many pin-striped suits, this one a bit more of a maroon with brown stripes, complete with a brown tie.

There was a sudden burst of noise coming from the main entrance of the TARDIS; Dean, Sam, and Cas had teleported in.

"Are you absolutely certain that they're all done? I seriously don't want to walk in on something I really don't need to see." The voice clearly belonged to Sam.

"I just don't understand why we couldn't just use the door. You know I hate it when you teleport like that, Cas." Dean this time.

"It's daytime. There are others out on the deck. If they saw us walking in here, there may be a few curious onlookers who follow us, and there is no need to add to the confusion that surrounds us." Castiel.

"Guess we'd better get dressed a little more quickly," Rose whispered to her love, just finishing pulling a pair of jean shorts on. She walked quickly out of the closet in order to find a hair brush. "Oi, you Americans ever hear of knocking?"

"Hey, we're not the ones who are a few hours late!" Dean called out, following the sound of Rose's voice, "You're not trying to avoid us, are you, Princess?"

"Not at all," she answered, tugging a brush through her hair, "Just a little busy on our search."

"Your search? And what is that for, your boyfriends cock?" Sam grumbled to himself.

Dean held back a laugh. Cas simply rolled his eyes, "What are you searching for?"

"We're not quite sure," the Doctor said, emerging from a doorway to face the boys, fully clothed, with the exception of a pair of socks or shoes. His toes simply curled a little on the cold floor as he stared down the three. "We've been tracking it since we met you, Dean."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's something that keeps drawing the TARDIS to it. We were actually trying to visit a friend of mine, who happens to live in 1589, but instead she took us here, and my tracking system went a bit insane. We decided to follow it onto this ship. The strange thing is, now, we're getting three readings, all for the same subject."

He jumped onto a chair by the center device, pressing a button on his way. The main screen changed, with three green dots glowing on a map of the globe. One was in the middle of the Atlantic, where they were now, one was on the outskirts of England, close to the water, and a third was in New York City. The smaller screens surrounding the large one now changed, filling up with old photographs, sketches, and even pre-medieval illustrations.

"It's extremely unclear about what this alien even looks like, we've seen it as a horse, a man, a bunch of pigs, a young boy, and an enchantress, who you met, Dean." The Doctor now looked right at the hunter, his eyes attempting to analyze him as he had tried with Sam when he first met him, but it was obvious he was getting nothing from his scan.

"You mean the woman who attacked me and made Sam sick all those years ago, that's who…or what we're tracking? But you said it was also in a bunch of pigs…"

"Now that's a funny story," Rose interjected, now walking down the stairs to meet up with the group, "We traveled back to Jerusalem back when Jesus walked the streets-"

"Real nice guy, there's definitely something interesting about him," the Doctor interrupted.

"-and we followed the DNA signature, only to find that he was already there, facing it, except the weird part was that he was facing two men with black eyes."

"He claimed that they were possessed by demons," the Doctor began, "but before we could even try to analyze them, he-"

Castiel's eyes began to glow. Wind stirred up around them and an almost blinding light surrounded the group. His voice boomed:

"'The demons begged Jesus, son of Man, King of Kings, Holy One, "If you drive out, send us into the herd of pigs." He, the Anointed One, said unto them, "Go!" So they came out and went into the pigs, and the whole herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and died in the water,' thus says the prophet Matthew in chapter 8, verses 31 and 32."

The light and wind faded as quickly as it appeared, releasing the glow from Cas' eyes as he returned to his normal state. All but Dean stared at the angel, confused, shocked, and a little bit afraid.

"He does that occasionally," Dean said simply, grabbing Castiel's left hand and holding it close to his heart, "It'll be a minute before he's back to normal."

"Hm. That's something I haven't seen before," the Doctor said to himself. "Well, anyway, I think he just about covered that question."

"So, it's a powerful demon, so what? Sounds like our buddy upstairs took care of it." Sam shifted his weight uncomfortably. He hated talking about powerful demons. Reminded him of too many painful memories.

"Not exactly. After that incident, we ran into it again as a horse, and then again as the enchantress. Now we're following it again, and it could be anything. We do know that it's on this ship, so it's probably a person," Rose said, attempting to fix her wind-blown hair.

"Great. So you guys are following a shape-shifting demon who can create copies of itself and travel through time. Oh boy."

"Not just that," the Doctor said, moving so he could type upon the center device, "It has allies."

Larger images flooded the smaller screens. One of a man in a black suit, another of the enchantress Dean had run into, which had a red x around it, and the last…Lucifer. Sam stumbled a little, almost falling on the floor.

"L-Lu-Lucifer is working with it? Why would Lucifer work _under_ someone? He isn't one to take orders! We've been tracking him for a year now."

"Wait a bloody minute; you're saying this blond guy with the skin problem is Satan?" Rose asked, a shiver in her voice, pointing towards the photo.

"This just keeps getting stranger and stranger…" the Doctor said to himself. "We have a friend in London watching the guy in the suit, and we found the enchantress dead a while ago, and we haven't been able to find your devil."

"Before we get any deeper into this, who's this enchantress? Is that how you met Rose and the Doctor, Dean?"

"Yeah, back when you and I were really little."

"Care to explain? I've been waiting quite a while, and we finally have the whole group together."

"Actually, I'd like to include my friends in London on this," the Doctor said quickly, "You all seem to know about 'Lucifer' and might be able to help us out. You said you've been tracking him; you three know the most about him. This could be informational for my friends. Let me get them on the phone first and we'll all be able to get on the same page."

"Oh, are you calling John and Sherlock?" Rose asked, "We haven't heard anything from them in a while. I miss those two!"

"Wait…who are you calling?" Castiel asked, now returning to the group.

"Why, Sherlock Holmes and his partner Dr. John Watson. Do you know them?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes. I know them," the angel said blankly. "If they have been tangled up in this mess, may my Father protect them."


	12. The Explanation

A computer screen lit up in a small apartment on a little known street in London. Resting on the couch close-by was a young man, tall, thin, pale; his dark hair curling just a little as it sat in a bit of a mess on top of his long face. An incredibly bright greenish-blue, a color only comparable to an emerald and a sapphire being lit up by a fluorescent bulb, shone from the man's eyes. He pursed his lips and lowered his brows as a little "bing" came from the computer.

"John," the man called, his dark voice reminiscent to that of old horror film narrations, "We have an incoming message from the Doctor."

"Well, why can't you get it?" a lighter, cheerier, voice answered from the tiny kitchen across from the couch.

"I'm nude."

A sigh was released from the other man, his shoulders sagging as the second word left the lips of his companion. He straightened his sweater, a black and white striped one, and turned from his tea so that he could face the now flashing computer screen. He scuttled over, clearly reluctant to encourage the odd behavior of the man on the couch, but he did so anyway.

"One of these days you're going to have to find a new way to get your thoughts clear."

He pressed the enter key and plopped down in the fold-up chair in front of the computer. With that, five curious faces stared back at him, two familiar, three not.

"Well hello, Doctor, how are we doing today?" he asked, forcing a slight smile. He knew one thing: a call from the Doctor never meant something good. Ever.

"Well," he began, never a good sign, "Rose and I have stumbled onto these three fellows, and they claim to have some information on the thing we've been tracking."

The man on the couch sprung up from his once-calm position. "John, fetch me a dressing gown," he said, pushing the seated man out of his chair and towards a bedroom, "What do they have? Anything important?"

Sam towered behind the Doctor, peaking over his head to get a better look at the stranger facing him. "Where's his shirt?" he whispered to Dean. His brother simply shrugged.

"We're not…interrupting anything, are we?" Rose asked, a bit of a smile on her face. She pushed past Sam and the Doctor, making it so that she was front and center. "We can always call back."

John returned quickly, hurrying over so he could face the screen. "What? No. Why would you be interrupting anything? It's not like we're busy with anything. Nope. Nothing. Nothing at all." He dumped his roommates' ass, and the rest of his body, out of view of the screen so he could clothe himself.

Rose's face quickly fell, quietly murmuring an "ok" before sliding back behind the Doctor. Castiel promptly took her spot.

"Doctor John Watson. It is a pleasure to see you again," he said, giving the man a salute. The rest of the group looked at him a little strangely, but that had begun to be a normal thing.

"My my my, look at you! My old war buddy. I've never been able to properly thank you for saving my life, Private. I never even got your name!" he smiled, now genuinely, saluting back.

"You know these men?" his roommate asked with a hint of venom in his voice, his head popping up from the ground to scan the crowd that watched him and John from who knew where.

"Relax, Sherlock, I only know the man in the trench coat and the blue tie. He stopped me from walking on a mine one day while I was in Afghanistan. No need to worry."

"I can hardly read anything on them," Sherlock said in anger, his eyes flashing, "They are fighters, all of them, perhaps in the marines, but yet, they aren't. The two, the tall one and his brother, they are clearly American, more from the mid-western states, but your army buddy, hm, he's hard. He appears to be American, but at the same time I'm getting traces of Russia in his appearance. The way he speaks is similar to that of someone who is not used to speaking, especially not around people; however, he does not have any clear defects."

"Sherlock, we'll tell you everything you need to know about the boys later, for now, all you need to know are their names," the Doctor began, "The tall one here is Sam, his brother over there is Dean, and John's, uhm, "war buddy" is Castiel. Apparently they've been tracking one of the allies of what we're chasing, and have had a couple encounters."

"Which one have they seen?" John asked, digging around for a file.

"The strange one with the skin problems," Rose said.

"Lucifer, my brother," Cas stated.

"Hold on, pardon? Could you say that again?" John questioned the angel, "Because for a moment there I thought you said Lucifer, as in, Satan."

"He is being honest," Sherlock gasped, astounded, "My goodness. This man is…an angel? Well, at least he's certain that he is! Hah!" He laughed, beginning to pace around the room, "That's how he saved you from that mine, John, he's your so-called guardian angel. That's why I can't quite place the man's oddity in speaking. They are not used to our language, he is actually holding back, it's as if he's being contained, restrained; wait. Wait wait wait wait. This is not his true form. No no no no nooo, no! He's taken a vessel. Oh good! Yes. Yes I see it now. In order to preserve us, he needed a body to occupy, one that we could look on without being blown into smithereens. Oh you beautiful creature, you, your name is Castiel, correct?"

"Yes," Cas said, his face as plain as it would have been if Sherlock had told him the sky was blue, "But you got one thing wrong. I am not John's guardian; I am yours, Mr. Holmes."

"I thought you were my guardian angel," Dean said, a little offended.

"You are. I watch over three humans. You, Sherlock, and a man by the name of Steven. You don't know him."

"Can we move past all this and get to the good part?" Sam asked, tapping his large foot, "I've been waiting a few extra hours to hear the whole story, and I'm losing my patience."

"Yes, Doctor, you will explain everything, correct?" John sighed, rubbing his eyes as if to check that he wasn't dreaming.

"I promise, but for now, first thing's first. Dean has faced one of the allies of our creature already, with me and Rose, back when he was around six years old. The enchantress. Do you still have the photos I sent you?" the Doctor inquired.

"We do," Sherlock said, holding up the file for the alien to see. John's face crumpled up a bit as he muttered to himself, "So that's where it was."

The Doctor cleared his throat to speak, but Rose beat him to it. "The TARDIS took us to Medieval Germany, even though we were aiming for present day because it was my mum's birthday, however, the old girl thought it better that we landed there first. After I changed my clothes to fit in, you know this one, he never changes out of that suit, we wandered a bit to see why the ship landed here. Turns out it was the day of some sort of festival in the small village we were in, and all the girls were getting dressed up and the boys were gathering their strength. As we walked about, I noticed a thin woman in green velvet. She was selling potions but, only to men who looked to be extremely strong. It was a bit curious. I decided to ask her if I could buy one, but she shooed me off and threatened to curse me if I bothered her again.

"As the day wore on, the men who had taken her potions started changing. They were growing colder and colder, yet stronger and stronger. They all abandoned whoever they were with and followed the woman in green around, doing anything for her. It was quite peculiar. The Doctor managed to get one of them cornered and got him in the TARDIS so he could do a quick scan. Apparently, these young men were transforming into a sort of alien that the Doctor has only seen a couple times, a kind made entirely out of ice."

This time, the Doctor spoke. "We gave the woman an option; either to change the men back and leave the planet, or to face us. She chose neither, laughing at us manically and disappearing. It took a while, but I mixed up a remedy for the affected men that would put them back to normal. Rose was lucky enough to have caught some of the enchantress' DNA from a hair brush that she used. We followed her signature to the summer of 1986, at a small hotel in a suburb off of Baltimore, Maryland. There was no trace of her from what we could tell, but we didn't have much time before we were approached by a seven year old boy…" He looked at Dean with a bit of a smile.

"Guess this is where I step in," the hunter said, looking a bit sheepish for once, "Before these limey bastards decided to show up, it was around dinner time and I had to make the decision of waiting for the slightest chance of Dad dropping something up, or ordering Chinese. About a week ago, before Dad left for his hunt, he brought us a present: it was some VHS that he found on sale at the convenience down the road from the hotel. Seeing as Dad wasn't exactly the greatest parent in the world, he got us "Sleeping Beauty" since it just came out. It made no difference to Sammy. He was three, loved all the pretty colors, and liked the music, too. We had it playing _constantly. _As it was ending, I decided against my original plans and walked over to the diner that was next door. I was gone for about ten minutes. When I came back to the room, Sammy was on the ground, lying there motionless.

"I tried to get him to move. I thought it might have been him having a fit because the movie finished. I restarted it, gave him his Princess Aurora doll that I stole for him, threw water on him, I even started singing with the movie to see if he would do anything. After an hour, I touched him, and he was cold as ice, and his hands were turning blue. That's when I knew I had to do something. I sat him in the chair close to the TV and ran outside. As I turned around, I saw a pretty blond woman in a pink gown, wearing a golden crown on her head. She looked just like the princess in the movie.

"'What's wrong?' she asked me, crouching on her knees so she could look me in the eye. Of course I told her everything, I knew I could trust her since she was Princess Aurora, and she offered to help me. She looked at Sammy, and told me that he had been poisoned by an enchantress. That's when we heard the Doctor calling for her. She came out of the room, holding my hand as she walked. The Doctor was a bit surprised by me, why wouldn't he be, but he treated me like an equal. He gave me a job to do, which was to carry Sam to his blue-box while he ran around looking for the enchantress. Rose would help give Sam the treatment he needed, and then she would return to help the Doctor.

"After he got his shot, the princess told me to wait in the TARDIS for her and the Doctor to return. Sam had fallen asleep, and there was no way I was leaving them to fight on their own. I ran after them, carrying the small gun that Dad had given me. I found them, waited for my chance, and shot the enchantress in the leg. I ran back to the TARDIS and acted as if I had been there the whole time, and shortly the Doctor and Rose returned, carrying the wounded enchantress, tied up. They questioned her and took all her magic potion before they released her. I suggested that I share the food I got for Sam and me, so I ran out of the box. She was standing by the door, chanting something funny, a dagger in her hand. When she saw me, she lunged, but I grabbed it from her and stabbed her, this time in the stomach. She yelled a little, probably swearing revenge, and then disappeared. The dagger fell to the ground, but it was glowing blue, so I kicked it so it was out of sight.

"I was pulled back into the box by the princess, and she told me that I didn't need to get the food, and that they would take us somewhere special. They took us to this…enchanted forest. The trees glowed a white light, there were cutesy little houses and cottages, and flowers all over the place. They got us carnival food, and as Sam and I ate our corndogs and ice-cream, we watched the two dance. Sam smiled and laughed, and ran over to them. It was so funny, he started singing the song from that stupid movie. I can't quite remember the tune, but he started singing it, and then out of nowhere, the forest filled with the music. He giggled and ran back over to me, saying, 'That's the princess! That's Princess Aurora!' I must have fallen asleep after a while, because next thing I knew, we were both back in the hotel room, the VCR playing, with the song going. I thought it was all a dream."

"I don't remember any of that," Sam said, taking an interest in the floor.

"You were three, I doubt you would remember it. And I never mentioned it because I thought it was just a dream," Dean said, looking at his brother.

"Why would the enchantress be trying to turn men, and a young child, into living ice? What would Moriarity have to do with it?" Sherlock murmured to himself, lost in thought, "Why why why why?"

"The bigger question is what does this have to do with what you're tracking now? Do you think it's back because of Dean and Rose's reunion? Could it be tracking the brothers, out for revenge?" John asked, now attempting to pick up an answer of some sort.

"There's no telling. We'll have to do more digging," answered the Doctor, "We can't get distracted. We have no idea what this thing is planning."


	13. The Lonely Hunter

It had been three days. Sam would get up early, do research on his own, and around ten Cas and Dean would emerge from their room. At noon, they would meet up with Rose and the Doctor for lunch, and then go to the TARDIS to continue their investigation with Sherlock and John. Somewhere between five and six, none of them could remember, they'd all go their separate ways, (well at least Rose and the Doctor would walk around the boat and Sam would stick with Dean and Cas and share a beer somewhere) and regroup at about ten and chat for however long they decided. Rinse, lather, repeat.

It was on the morning of the fourth day that Sam was sitting by the small pool on the top deck of the cruise-liner. He didn't wear a swim-suit; technically the pool was open all the time, but no one would get in until nine or so. The hunter flipped through the pages of a romance novel that was sitting by his wicker chair the other day, smiling a faint smile as the breeze swept over him.

"We meet again, my friend," a voice declared triumphantly.

Looking up, Sam saw the smiling face of Laurence, the man he had met while waiting to hear the story of Dean's first meeting with Rose and the Doctor. Only now did he remember that Dean had met the duo twice, and had no idea what the second meeting consisted of, but he pushed the thought away and grinned at the man.

"Are you still looking for your friend?" Sam asked, standing so he could properly greet the black-haired man. "It's hard to find people here. It's a big ship."

Laurence shifted his weight, leaning a little more on his left side and the same walking stick he had earlier. "To answer your question, Samuel, yes, I did. It is a very fortunate event that I did discover his hiding place. Were you successful on your conquest for your brother and his beloved?"

"Yeah, I just had to wait a little while. It's actually a good thing that they were late, otherwise I would've had to deal with two horny idiots." Sam laughed to himself.

His companion looked back with confusion, which, at the sight of Sam's laughter, quickly transformed to a dry chuckle. "Oh yes, it is a trifle to deal with horns when they have not been properly taken care of."

Sam assumed that the man must have been a foreigner; he had an accent that he couldn't quite place, and it would explain the formality in his speech. "Do you have a brother?"

The man's smiling face fell, his eyes falling to the ground. "Yes, my friend, for a time I did. It was a bright period of my life, but filled with much ignorance. As soon as I gained the knowledge I have now…our bond was broken."

A hand rested on the man's shoulder, the tan skin contrasting against the dark green. "I couldn't imagine anything more painful. I'm sorry to hear that, Larry. How did he die, if I may ask?"

The familiar ringing of a cell phone could be heard from the pockets of Laurence's coat. He gave an apologetic look to Sam as the hunter dropped his hand. A deep voice could be heard on the other end, one that was smooth, seductive, but threatening at the same time. Now, this voice to most would simply be a bit odd, maybe even pleasing, but for Sam, it was very different. The small of his neck grew icy, his hands shifted into fists, his heart rate went up a little. This silky voice was all-too familiar to the hunter. But he quickly changed back, his once terrified face returning to the sympathetic smile he had been offering to his companion earlier. It was about a minute before Laurence shut the phone shut.

"I offer my humblest plea for forgiveness, Samuel. It was simply a friend of mine reporting the events that I have missed while on this excursion," he said, now the one putting a caring hand on Sam's shoulder.

"No problem, man, really," Sam said, a feeling of doubt overcoming him. Did he really hear what he thought he heard, or was his mind simply playing tricks on him? He couldn't really tell anymore; stress was getting to him. Perhaps that was the curse of being single while on a big ship filled with happy gay couples. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of the love that once filled him so fully. "Hey, it was good seeing you. Hope to see you around, alright?"

"Why, yes, of course, my friend. I am quite fond of our talks together, Samuel."

The hunter turned away, heading towards his room as quickly as he could. Before he could get too far, a firm grip was upon his arm.

"Pray tell, kind one, what is the matter?"

Sam sighed deeply, fighting the urge to run. "I…I just need to talk to someone. I don't want to trouble you with it."

The man frowned, his green eyes scanning the young man. "Simply know, Samuel Winchester, that I am available for listening, if you require it."

"Thanks," Sam said, again moving towards the doors that would lead to his room. He walked in silence, passing a small number of early risers making their way to breakfast. Floating in his mind were memories that were years old, ones he thought he had boxed up and put away, never to be seen again, but here they were, spilling out, invading his mind. He needed to be around people; he needed to talk to someone, someone he could just speak to for hours. It went against his better judgment, but he surpassed his brother's room and made his way towards the strange blue box.


	14. The Excitement

It was hard to imagine that Cas would be anywhere near good at sex. It would be like finding an old battery and expecting it to power your whole house. To make it more understandable, it would be like finding a battery that's over a few millennia old and expecting it to work, and then power the entire globe. One, crusty, fossilized battery.

Now all Dean could think of was Cas in a dinosaur outfit. He shook the thought out of his head, smirking only a little bit before he rolled over on the bed so that he was holding Castiel's hips close to his own body. "Hey, angel, time to get up."

"Angels do not sleep," Cas mumbled, "I simply rest here out of your human tradition." Even still, he had his eyes stubbornly shut.

"Oooh, are you going to be difficult?" Dean whispered into his lover's ear, "I can do that." He gave a quick nibble on Cas's ear.

That got him to open his eyes.

"Dean, do you recall what the Doctor told us? We are not to be distracted."

"This isn't a distraction; we've done this every single second we've gotten time alone together these past few days," Dean taunted. He could tell that Cas was turning red. "Now, do I need to be a little more—" he kissed the angel's neck "-assertive?"

The hunter didn't understand why Cas wore clothes to bed, he'd always take them off. Perhaps it was the humility that he had, being a subject of the Lord and whatnot. But still, it was a little annoying when Dean was already nude and the angel was fully clothed. At least now he was just wearing his white undershirt and dress pants. The first night, he wore his entire ensemble: shoes, trench coat, everything.

Now, Cas was quickly, and happily, admitting defeat, undoing his belt as Dean pulled up the soft white tee. Their lips gladly met, exchanging hot breaths, kisses, and tongues dashing in and out on occasion. Dean's body was filled with excitement as he heard the clang of the metal belt-buckle hitting the wooden floor.

Castiel ran his soft, long fingers down Dean's back, gracefully tracing his love's spine. The hunter pulled down the black pants and threw them to who-knows-where (which ended up being on the dresser) leaving Cas only in his boxer-briefs. That was certainly something that turned Dean right on. He wasn't able to describe it in any way, just something about how the tight fabric clung to Castiel's ass, and showed very much the erection that was beginning to make itself known. There was just something so delicious, so sexy, so…_hot _about it. The hunter was beginning to ache with desire.

He moved his body so that his face was close to the angel's dick. Heh. Dean never thought that he'd be in a situation like this, but hey, here he was, and hell we was loving every second of it. Placing his tongue right above the waistband of the boxer-briefs, he licked and sucked on the skin that was just above the prize. Cas groaned, his eyes shut as he murmured Dean's name. Fuck. This was awesome.

"How much do you want it?" Dean asks, grabbing the elastic of Cas's underwear and snapping it back.

"Dean, that is a superfluous question," he grunts out, "It is clear by my erect penis that I would enjoy receiving oral or anal sex."

"You're no good at dirty talk," Dean laughs, sliding those oh-so-sexy boxer-briefs off of Castiel's form. Hmm, this was nice. Yes. Very nice. The hunter, without warning, took Castiel into his mouth, trying to get as much of it as he could down his throat. Cas screamed at that shock. Dean bobbed his head up and down as the angel continued moaning.

There was a short spurt of cum in Dean's mouth. Not enough to be an orgasm, but enough for the angel to break his usual clean demeanor and swear. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Dean! Yes, fuck, yes yes."

How the hell was that a turn on? That was another thing that Dean couldn't understand. Simply hearing that one syllable come from Cas's lips sent shockwaves through his body. He sucked harder, tasting as much as he could of his angel. His hands wandered to Castiel's ass, gripping onto it so hard it would have left bruises on a human. Cas let out a low moan, now bucking his hips, his dick pressing further into Dean's throat.

This is where the fun really began. Dean quickened his pace of bobbing, sucking more and more, only taking millisecond breaks to let the saliva drip down from his tongue to pool on Castiel's hard, raw, boner. The angel shoved the hunter's mouth back where it had been before, close to the edge. This was what got Dean going the most; hearing Cas cry out as he neared orgasm.

"Ugh, Dean, more," the Castiel ordered, panting, his breath quickening, his left hand tangled up in Dean's hair. "Mmmm, yessss-"

He obeyed, his tongue flicking the soft tip of Cas's dick, his left hand now pumping up and down, replacing his mouth. It was only a minute or so now. Almost there…so close.

Castiel released more groans, now incomprehensible, possibly in Enochian, or just sex cries. Dean couldn't really tell the difference, and certainly didn't give a shit right now. He was waiting for that warm flood of white to hit him. Cas's right hand tore the bed-sheets as he thrusted his cock deep into Dean's mouth, crying, begging for the pleasure to overtake him.

A sweet, yet salty, taste filled Dean as the angel came, so much so that it began to drip from Dean's lips. His hands were covered, drops of it even on his freckled cheeks. He gladly swallowed it, shutting his eyes in bliss.

Fuck. He never wanted to do this with anyone else, ever. He only wanted to do it with Cas, and Cas alone. As he backed up from Castiel's form, the angel caught his arm, pulling him close to his chest.

"Don't…ugh…don't you think…oh fuck…it's your turn?" he panted, a shaking hand grabbing onto Dean's prominent hard-on.

Dean smiled, licking up the last remnants of cum with his tongue.


	15. The Shimmer

"Rose! Doctor! We've made a breakthrough!" Sam called, pushing through the doors of the TARDIS. "I think I've found him, the leader-you won't believe me but I'm certain!"

The alien emerged from a hallway, the one that lead to the kitchen. "The leader? Of what? Take a deep breath and think it through."

"The one that-"

"I thought I told you to take a deep breath and to think it through before you opened that mouth again?" he interjected, running to Sam so he could snap the man's jaw shut. "Alright, let's wait until Rose comes down, and then you can speak, ok?"

Sam glared, but nodded his head in agreement. He hated how weird the Doctor was. Rose wasn't this crazy. He'd much rather tell her than this nut-job. Aliens. What a pile of bull. If he was an alien, he'd give Gabriel a blowjob, and that was never going to happen.

It took a couple awkward minutes of the Doctor invading Sam's personal space, but soon enough Rose skipped down into the control room, a smile on her face, a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies in her hands. The Doctor's usual goofy smile exploded into a symbol of total joy, he letting go of Sam and rushing to his companion.

"Did you use the chocolate from Venus? Oh goodness I love the chocolate from Venus!" he squirmed, anxiously awaiting the answer.

"Yes, I-"

Five smolderingly hot cookies were snatched up, one going directly into the Doctor's mouth. He danced around a bit, having made the poor decision of putting much too hot food into his mouth, but it was clear he didn't care. It was worth it.

"What's going on Sam? We usually don't meet up for another few hours. Is something wrong?" she asked sympathetically, the Doctor in the background waving his long arms around.

"I think I know who it is who's controlling Lucifer and that other guy, uh, Moriarity. He's on the cruise; I just saw him get a call while talking to him and on the other end, it sounded exactly like Lucifer. It had to be him, I know that voice. He must either be working with them, or directing them."

The Doctor had finally managed to stop dancing and swallow his cookie. "Are you certain?"

"Deadly."

Rose looked down at her cookies, realizing just how out of place they seemed now. She set them on the control panel, the Doctor readily grabbing them and popping them in like a handful of skittles.

"Do you have any idea what his name is? Can you describe him for us?" The Doctor asked, typing with one hand, balancing the plate with the other.

"He told me his name was-"

"Laurence."

They turned to see the man himself, standing tall, his hands gripping his walking stick, his knuckles white. He wore his long green coat, black suit and tie, and checkered green and gold scarf. Rose stepped back defensively, hands shaking. Sam straightened up, standing protectively in front of Rose. The Doctor, instead, only looked up from his cookies for a minute, finishing off the last one.

"My, my, my, Samuel, I had no inclination to believe you were afraid of my friend," he smirked, walking forward slowly, "Yes, I have been following you, as a favor for him, but I cannot quite understand the complexity of your actions."

"Is Laurence your true name?" the Doctor casually asked, he jumping to sit on the futuristic chair that awaited him. "Or do you prefer something a little more…fancy?"

"If you must really know," he answered, "Where I am from, I am known as Loki."

"You can't be Loki. I know the actual Loki, and he's way shorter than you are," Sam replied, confused, "Plus he doubles as the angel Gabriel."

"You are mistaken, my friend," he said, stepping closer and closer to the Doctor, "I am the god behind the myth, similarly to your Satan. But I am much more powerful than he is, much much more. I have not been sighted until now, in all truth, having worked behind the veil of mystery. It is much better that way; I have enemies I wish not to awaken."

As the man spoke, Sam dug into his pocket, and pressed the speed dial for Dean. He better answer his phone, or else he was in more danger than Sam was.

"Well," the Doctor said, "If you have enemies, then how come you're back? Were you defeated? Oh, isn't that a tad embarrassing!"

"Silence! You should not be jesting in the position you are in now, man."

"I shouldn't? But you see, I don't see you as much of a threat. I mean, you're just this lanky guy with a stick. Just because you have another fake god and a criminal mastermind on your side doesn't mean you're all powerful. However…" the Doctor mused, "Perhaps you are not showing us your true form…"

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, "You think he's a shape shifter?"

"What the bloody hell is that?" Rose murmured to herself.

"No no no, you crazy boy, I mean, I believe he's wearing a shimmer. Oooh, I do love those. It's such fun to say it. Shimmer. Shimm-er. Shimm-ah! Ah, might as well clear up the big guy's head," he smiled, pulling out the blue device he had once called a sonic screwdriver. "Shimmer!"

As the device flashed blue light, the image around the intruder changed and transformed. No longer was he wearing a suit and tie; no, now he was in full battle armor. He was crowned with a golden helmet, with the most bizarre antlers sticking up toward the sky, golden plates bracing his arms and chest, leather engrossing the rest of his body. But the best part was the regal green cape that flowed behind him, announcing his stance as royalty; that was clear. His walking stick had been transformed into a silver and golden scepter, a pale blue light glowing near the tip, only to be surrounded by a sharp spear-like end.

"What are you?" Rose demanded, her face growing red with anger.

"I'm more than you could ever imagine," he retorted, grinning smugly.


End file.
